


Milk With Ice

by Pollarize



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, dont believe what you read in the tags, dumb, ironic, trigger warning: milk with ice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 06:15:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17218517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollarize/pseuds/Pollarize
Summary: Apparently, Dallon doesn't like milk with ice in it (who does?)





	Milk With Ice

**Author's Note:**

> so this was a random idea and my sister and i thought that it was funny so here you go. i am attempting to keep the brallon fandom alive long enough to post my epic fics. dont die on me just yet :{

Brendon was humble but he couldn’t deny that he had been successful. Lucky, but successful. He had money now, too much to know what to do with and so logically, he used it to mess with people. What else would he use it for? 

 

He only ever did good things. He liked helping people out. Brendon figured if he had the money and didn’t know what to do with it, he’d donate it or use it to make someone's day better. That was something that he was happy he was able to do.

 

They were on break from a tour and Brendon was back in his home. He was recognizable but his fans weren’t too crazed yet. He still had the luxury of leaving his house and not getting bombarded by people. 

 

He went to the Denny’s up the road, wanting some disgustingly greasy breakfast food. It was only noon but something that would lube his intestines sound like it might hit the spot. 

 

Brendon sat down at a table, ordering his food. He looked around, finding a guy across the room who was sitting with three girls. His first impression was that this guy was unnecessarily attractive. Brendon had pretty good intuition when it came to other gay people but this guy wasn’t hard. The way he talked with the girls made it obvious he wasn’t interested. His hair was long, swooping down across his forehead and down to his chin. His shirt was a floral button down and on top of that he wore a black sparkly jacket. 

 

Brendon grinned and called a waitress over. She smiled politely at him.

 

“Something I can get for you?”

 

“I will give you a hundred dollars in cash if you can take a glass of milk with ice in it over to the guy in the sparkly jacket over there. The rule is: don’t tell him who it came from no matter how much he asks. You can say it’s for the “cute guy” at the table but nothing about me,” he said. She looked around the room until she spotted the only person wearing a sparkly jacket. She gave Brendon a look like he was out of his mind.

 

“Milk? With ice?” She asked and Brendon nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill, handing it to her.

 

“Yes, that exactly, thank you.”

 

She left the table, staring down at the money. He watched as she walked into the back and he could see her looking at him. He couldn’t tell if her face was curiosity or disgust from his request but he watched as she did exactly as he asked, walking over to the guy and setting the drink down. Brendon couldn’t hear but he saw the guy look around the restaurant. There was plenty of people here and Brendon was good at making it seem like he wasn’t paying attention. 

 

It took a couple of seconds before he heard ‘what the fuck?’ and a chorus of giggles. Brendon tried not to smile.

 

When he looked back over, the glass of milk with ice hadn’t been drank at all. Instead, it was pushed to the backside of the table where it would be left and untouched.

 

Brendon called the waitress over again. 

 

“Again, please?” He asked, sliding another bill over. She stared down at the money, shocked at how much he was handing away for a dumb request. She obviously had no idea who he was and where the money came from but Brendon knew she was a minimum wage worker and that a tip this large was too much to pass on. 

 

He watched as another glass was set down and the guy turned red, the chorus of giggles louder this time. Brendon was trying hard not to snicker as the guy looked around again. Brendon shoved some food in his mouth to hide his laughter.

 

It went on a couple more times, the waitress racking up cash as she delivered the drink over to the table. Brendon thought it was great. The three girls couldn’t keep it together and Brendon loved that the guys face got more and more red, his hands clenched where they rested on the table.

 

The fifth drink was set down when he had finally had enough. The guy stood up, holding the glass in his hand, yelling across the diner.

 

“Okay, whoever is sending me milk with ice of all things in it, could you please stop? It was funny the first time but now you’re just being dumb and I hate it,” he said and Brendon was able to watch him now openly. Everyone else was looking, too.

 

He sat down, pushing the drink over with the others and Brendon, again, called the waitress over.

 

“You can tell him who this one is from. Also, to make up for all the pain and suffering I’ve caused him, I’ll pay their bill,” Brendon said, smiling politely as he handed her her sixth bill. She took it and Brendon watched as the drink was brought over. He thought for a second that the guy might throw the cup across the room. It only took a couple seconds before the guy looked over at Brendon, narrowing his eyes and standing up. He stalked over to Brendon, staring down at where he sat.

 

“Hi there, cutie,” Brendon said, the laugh in his voice obvious.

 

“What is your problem, dude?” He asked and Brendon couldn’t help his laughter that time.

 

“I’m just fucking with you,” he said, looking up to him. 

 

“But milk? With ice? What kind of monster does that?” 

 

“You wanna sit down and talk this out or are you gonna stand there and yell at me?” Brendon asked, waving a hand over to the empty seat across from him.

 

The man stood there for a moment before he looked over to his friends and then sat down.

 

“What kind of a monster would do that?” He asked, clasping his hands on the table, not looking up to meet Brendon’s eyes. He looked embarrassed, his cheeks slightly red.

 

“This monsters name is Brendon, yours?” He asked and the guy turned his head to the side. 

 

“Dallon.”

 

“Well, Dallon, what’s got you blushing?” Brendon asked, a little cocky. He was used to this kind of response. Except usually, his fans knew him by name, they fawned over him quite obviously. Dallon didn’t seem to know who he was, didn’t seem to act like there was any recognition whatsoever. Brendon liked that about him. Cute boys had always been his weakness but since his band had gained popularity, dating had gotten worse.

  
Dallon, it seemed, was his dream guy.

 

“Didn’t think someone who liked milk with ice could actually be attractive,” Dallon said and Brendon laughed.

 

“Oh, no. I’ve never actually drank that shit.” Dallon scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

 

“Of course you haven’t,” Dallon mumbled.

 

“Well, since we’re both in agreement that we’re attractive, how about a date?” Brendon offered, smiling politely across the table. 

 

“That depends. Will there be any milk with ice in it?” Dallon asked and Brendon shook his head, laughing a bit at the thought, “Good, it’s a date then.”

 

Brendon had reserved a nice restaurant for their date a couple days later and he was sitting down. He didn’t have to wait long, thankfully. Dallon showed up, looking better than he could have imagined. They had been texting on and off the last couple of days to make plans but hadn’t quite gotten to know each other.

 

The date was the perfect time for that and Dallon wasted no time. As soon as they sat down, he began his questions.

 

“How many other guys do you send milk with ice to as a pickup line?” Dallon asked, squinting his eyes at Brendon accusingly. Brendon held his hands up, trying very hard not to laugh.

 

“You have and will be the only person to ever get milk with ice in it,” Brendon said, watching Dallon. Most of the questions after that were benign, just asking what his favorite animal is, color, movie, book.

 

Then came the question Brendon was longing for. 

 

Brendon was popular enough to get recognized. It made dating pretty hard because he never knew who liked him, or liked the money he was quickly raking in. Dallon, on the other hand, had absolutely no idea who he was.

 

“Favorite music artist?” Brendon asked, trying to get a feel for how caught he would be by the end of the night. They had already talked about school or the lack thereof for Brendon and he knew job was coming soon. 

 

Dallon thought for a minute.

 

“Okay, you can’t judge me for it, yeah?” He started and Brendon raised his eyebrows.

 

“I don’t make fun of people for music,” he said and Dallon let out a sigh.

 

“Okay, my favorite band is probably Panic! At The Disco.” Brendon nodded, looking over to Dallon, not getting the chance to speak before Dallon continued, “Have you listened to them before?” 

 

“Yeah, I have. I know a couple of their songs. You a huge fan of them?” He asked and Dallon shrugged.

 

“I guess you could say that. I know basically every song, I think they’re great. I’m just not obsessive like some of the fans, I guess.”

 

Brendon tried very hard to snort at that. He knew very well how some fans were.

 

“That’s a good band. The lyrics are pretty decent.”

 

They chatted and then the question came up.

 

“So, what do you do for a living?” Dallon asked and Brendon gave him a small smile. 

 

“I do music. I’m in a band,” he said and Dallon’s eyebrows raised.

 

“Really? That’s so cool,” Dallon started and Brendon shrugged.

 

“Yeah, it’s a lot of fun. We’re not super big or anything but we’ve got some fans and stuff. I’ve got to travel with some other bands and play shows. I love it,” he said, not quite elaborating the whole truth. Yes, he’d toured with other bands. He just never admitted that he was the headliner, that the other bands opened for him.

 

“What’s the name of your band? I’ll definitely check you out. Do you have a soundcloud or something?” He asked and Brendon chuckled that time. 

 

“No, no soundcloud,” he admitted and Dallon was pulling his phone out. Brendon saw that it was the notes app, ready to take down the name of his band.

 

“So, name? I’ll google search until I find like a live show or something. You had to have videoed a performance, right?” Dallon asked and Brendon just chuckled again.

 

“Yeah, there’s a couple of videos out there on YouTube. The name of my band is Panic! At The Disco,” he said and it took a couple of seconds before it to kick in and Dallon realized what he had said. He shook his head.

 

“Come on, don’t play,” Dallon said, rolling his eyes. 

 

Brendon couldn’t help but smirk. He wasn’t sure if he expected this disbelief or uncontrollable excitement.

 

“Alright, eat quick. I’ll go outside and prove it to you. Pick out the most iconic song that Panic wrote,” he said and Dallon squinted at him but complied.

 

Brendon paid the bill, almost smirking as Dallon kept side-eyeing him the rest of the night. They walked out to the parking lot together and Dallon was quieter than he had been the whole night. Brendon followed him to his car, smiling when Dallon finally turned around to look at him.

 

“Did you pick a song yet?” Brendon asked, raising his eyebrows when Dallon crossed his arms. He nodded after a second. 

  
“Hurricane,” he said and Brendon nodded his head.

 

“Vices? Probably one of my favorite albums, if I’m honest,” Brendon said and Dallon just rolled his eyes. 

 

“You do realize that Panic! Has one of the most iconic voices, nobody can compare,” Dallon said and Brendon smiled at that. He liked the fact that his voice was easily recognizable. Iconic was something he hadn’t heard tossed around about him before but he liked it.

 

“You seem to like this band a lot. You haven’t been to a concert? You haven’t looked up the singers name or a photo?” He asked and Dallon blushed, shrugging his shoulders. 

 

“I told you, I don’t obsess. I like their music and I’ll buy a ticket when I have the money and they come back,” he explained. 

 

“Here’s what I’ll do. If you believe me, I will, free of charge, get you and a friend either backstage or front row,” he offered and that intrigued Dallon. Brendon could tell that Dallon still quite didn’t believe him but he nodded anyway.

 

“Okay, well, I haven’t exactly warmed up my voice so don’t judge me too harshly,” Brendon said before he started.

 

It didn’t take too long into the song before Dallon realized his mistake. He watched in complete silence, waiting until the song was done before he said anything.

 

“I feel dumb,” he said and Brendon could only laugh. 

 

“To be fair, most people wouldn’t expect to go out on a date, or even meet someone randomly in a Denny’s who’s-” Brendon didn’t quite finish the sentence.

 

“Famous?” 

 

“Not the word I would have used but I guess that’s one way to put it,” Brendon said, smiling at Dallon, “So front row or backstage?”

 

Dallon thought for a minute.

 

“Backstage, no friend. A date afterwards?”

 

Brendon smiled and nodded. 


End file.
